


Nothing to Lose

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Angst, Bad end, Gen, Ghost trick makes these things trickier, but not actual suicide, kind of suicide appearing?, playing it safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: A gift written for tankens for ghost swap exchange on Tumblr. Prompt was an angsty bad ending where Cabanela is physically and emotionally destroyed, either losing touch with everyone or trying to pick up the pieces of his life. Kinda went with a weird mix of both here. Either way Cabanela is not in a good place.





	Nothing to Lose

Cabanela lay shirtless on his kitchen floor, turning his gun round in his hands. Strange how these things worked out. It was his gun that played a large role in creating this disaster, took his life once and now was about to cause another large change. If this worked, the thought lurked, nagging, and he swept it aside. There was little reason for it not to work – yes, just like there was little reason to fail once Jowd was back and yet they lost everything. He tried to sweep that thought aside as well, which proved far more difficult, further hindered by the painful reminder in his legs the painkillers had yet to have an effect on.

Breathe in and out. Relax. No need to render part of the plan useless by suffering an unending ache if that was a risk. There was no knowing exactly how this all worked and the professor hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with answers – an unfair assertion he knew. After all what he knew they both came to know. It hadn’t rendered the meeting any less frustrating.

 

It had been a bad day already after a pained and nightmare-ridden night. The professor’s suspicious looks hadn’t helped. 

“And why all the questions now?”

“Yomiel may or may not be gone, but by all accounts from SIU’s reports they have the fragment. I’m only makin’ sure we know what we may be up against.”

“Really? And that involves knowing about a body’s state before and after, does it?”

“You knooow me, professor. Just tryin’ to be thorough.”

The professor looked him up and down and his glance fell on the cane resting against Cabanela’s chair before frowning back at him. “I’m not buying it. I know that look by now. You’re planning something and something damned daft if I’m right.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Yeah? I’m amazed you can say that after everything we saw.”

“This isn’t the same.”

The professor shot him a sharp look. “Not sure I’m seeing a lot of difference at this point.”

“Last I checked I was asking for facts, not opinions.”

The professor leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “And what would Jowd think?”

It took everything he had not to snap right there. Jowd was gone. Jowd’s opinion had no bearing here. Another image rose unbidden in his mind. Jowd was the last person he’d go to for a judgement call…

The Justice Minister’s face had been solemn when Cabanela entered for that unexpected meeting and it grew apologetic as he slid an open box across his desk to him.

“As you are aware, that night, Detective Lynne went to gather more vital evidence on Detective Jowd’s case and it seemed he intended it to go to you in the end.” The Justice Minister paused there and sighed heavily. “This was that evidence. I can assure you his name will be cleared.”

When Cabanela stared into the box, his crutches slipped with a loud clatter and he had to catch himself on the minister’s desk at the sight of the old familiar gun. He may as well have broken his ribs all over again for all his ability to catch his breath. This was it, the final piece he searched for. This was the hole in the scene.

Guns and mistakes and innocence proven too late. Yet this was by your own action, wasn’t it Jowd? And to leave it to Lynne who desperately looked for answers not knowing what she held? Why? The last word? A reminder that this was what he wanted? A request for hate? No room for a rebuttal regardless. Had that been your intention? Very funny old friend. To find out now, too late and unnecessarily, felt like a cheap insult.

He’d had to push the box back to the Minister before he hurled the wretched thing at a wall. If he’d only known about this sooner. They would have had more time. They could have worked together. If Jowd hadn’t been so damned stubborn he wouldn’t have run to his death on a mission they should have won. He wouldn’t have been left at the bottom of the ocean. He wouldn’t have dragged the others to their deaths with him. Cabanela wouldn’t be left with a question he could never get an answer to. “Would you have ever told me?” Would he have wanted to know…?

He pulled himself back to the present. The professor was waiting for an answer and Cabanela swallowed bile.

“A dead man’s opinion has little weight,” Cabanela said flatly. He rose, gritting his teeth and gripping his cane tighter as his body protested the abrupt movement.

“Cabanela!” The professor called as Cabanela turned away to the door.

He raised his cane in a jaunty twirling wave he knew would annoy him. “Not your problem, prof!”

 

The gun made another turn in his hands. Hadn’t failure been enough? Hadn’t losing those few he held dear in a single night been enough without the accompanying bitterness at a man who could no longer fight back? Hadn’t there been enough lies? Well, he’d lived with anger and spite and hope for five years. He could keep going. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

He forced himself to breathe through the tension grinding his ribs together. This was about to end. Pain wouldn’t matter. Further damage wouldn’t be possible. His body would be under his full control again. What exactly that would entail remained a mystery. Would he able to function normally again? Would he have to exert more control like a puppet? He hadn’t been able to move then, but Yomiel had certainly had no trouble moving him. He shuddered and his chest tightened at the thought.

A lack of mental clarity was not something he could ever take pleasure in, but he was grateful for the fogginess of his memories of the long agonizing climb up the stairs, of being forced to pick up the phone, of slumping into the chair alone once more, but feeling the effects.

Never again. His control. _His._

If there were problems, there would be bonuses. Would he gain powers such as Yomiel did? That could only be useful. Would he need sleep anymore? He wouldn’t miss it or the nightmares of hard angled glasses, a sharp grin, of explosions and pain and desperate fear. Of endless planning and waiting. Of cold hard facts spelling an end, confirming what he knew, but refused to admit to. Memories were more than enough.

He would be useful again, not this charade of part time work that was all he’d been able to convince the Chief of allowing for the time-being under the uncertainty that it would ever be anything more, that it would last. Not having anything to focus his mind on and being left out of the loop was unbearable. Full time duty was on the horizon and he’d be damned if he’d let anything get in the way of it. Focus, duty… Revenge.

To hell with the professor’s opinion. He wasn’t trapped in a fragile and damaged shell that would never fully recover. He didn’t find himself struggling to pick himself up off the floor after a sudden wrong movement. He wasn’t plagued with nights that felt endless as pain gripped him, if not from his body, then from his spiralling thoughts and memories, while other nights were too heavy under the weight of exhaustion and medication. He wasn’t met with looks of pity or wondering if he was really up to the task anymore. He didn’t spend five years on one goal only for his body to fail in the end and lose everything. Not again. Never again. He didn’t have another fight to prepare for.

The gun was cool in his hands and strangely soothing against the heat coursing through him. One Temsik shard earned with what authority he had left to him and a certain amount of backroom dealing. One shard for a new beginning.

Breathe in and out. Nothing to lose. Everything to gain. He felt himself truly relax as he settled into his decision and rested the gun barrel against his chest. What would Jowd think?

Cabanela pulled the trigger.

 

When the Inspector returned to full duty, wearing a long black coat, the loss of the familiar white coat wasn’t the only thing the detectives noticed. There was a new edge to the Inspector’s words, and a flair in both movement and speech that lost all warmth and instead felt cold and calculated. The detectives in the Special Investigations Unit were used to intensity, but it had always been something that burned bright and hot, sweeping them up and pushing them forward.

Now it was remote and chilly bringing with it a different kind of tension and an ever present sense of danger. Failure was not an option. No one dared to find out the consequences.

No one knew exactly what had transpired. However, those who worked under Inspector Cabanela knew more than lives were lost that fateful night.


End file.
